Colazione Amici
by TharaCorleone
Summary: Fabio's first morning without Aniki, and Tino jumps in at first opportunity with breakfast in bed. Of course, with the Montana, not even breakfast can be a simple affair. NOTE: This refers to a lot of headcanon you may or may not agree with.


"27th July 1957...ooooh, those were some fun times."

My first hour or so awake had been spent reading the entries inside my journal; flipping through the pages, I couldn't help playing my personal game of choosing my entries at complete random and contrasting the different time periods.

_2nd March 2009_

_I've only been here for a week or so and despite the generations that come and go, the Montana never truly change. Lorenzo, or Enzo as he keeps insisting, is just like Michello before the ice days- always throwing a hissy fit if anyone touches his precious little motor!_

I'd only brushed the Ferrari's paint with my suit jacket sleeve and he'd seen it reason enough to go absolutely berserk on me. Chuckling, I quickly flipped through to the next random entry.

_15th January 2011_

_Tino accompanied me on our latest mission..._

When I noticed _that_ date on the page, I quickly closed the journal in a bid to stop myself from shaking violently; I didn't need the written word to remind me, as the memories were still clearly vivid in my mind. Memories that didn't need to be there, and those that could only be quelled by one person- Aniki. However, Aniki was away for reasons he had refused to even give me, so I'd been left to deal with the recurring nightmare all by myself. And believe me, it was the most difficult thing I'd ever had to cope with.

Suddenly struggling to stay awake, I felt my head began to lull into the sleep state; after what seemed like five minutes, I found myself slowly waking up to some gentle yet consistent prodding.

"Buongiorno, Fabio."

"Aaaaaah!"

"Relax, it's only me," the voice chuckled; upon realising who it was, I had every reason under the sun _not_ to relax.

"Oh, it's _you_," I said, almost spitting out the words in disgust as I deliberately turned my back to him. "Should have known. First morning without Aniki and you jump in at the earliest chance possible. Leave me alone, buta."

"Mio dio, what has that Chopstick Fag done to you?" He muttered, but he didn't take it any further in terms of abuse. It was unusual for Tino to leave out the swear words when he spoke about Aniki, but it was probably his attempt to keep on my good side and extend his stay in the bedroom.

At that moment, I felt myself being turned over to the other side of the bed; before I knew it, I had my fellow Montana in my eye-line once again, and he was looking rather concerned.

"Fabio, you look _terrible_," he said, placing the back of his hand on my forehead; with his glove still on, which wasn't going to be too effective. "You're not coming down with anything, are you?"

"I don't think so, but I didn't sleep a wink last night."

Noticing Tino peer down at the still-open page in my journal, I couldn't help looking a little shifty. Thinking he'd put two and two together he skipped the obvious question, sat himself down and budged up right next to me. Despite past events, I couldn't help relaxing as I lent my head on his shoulder; feeling too exhausted to resist, I happily allowed him to put one arm around me as he seemed to juggle a square something with the other.

"Awww, sleepy Fabs."

"Don't call me that."

He may have been acting a lot more civil than usual, but it didn't give Tino permission to use Aniki's special name. Many of the clan did call me "Your Fabs" but this was only when they mentioned me infront of my amichetto. And believe me, I was still far from calling the likes of _Tino_ "amichetto".

"Someone's a bit grumpy," he chuckled, but he swiftly moved his arm away from me in a nervous manner. "Don't worry, Dr Cannibale has the cure for that."

I couldn't help looking pleasantly surprised when he laid the square something down infront of me- a silver tray playing host to a rather crowded plate of food.

"You made me breakfast? That's so sweet," I cooed, smiling. But smiles soon turned to slight confusion. "But wait, I thought you said..."

"I said I didn't _eat_ this normal fodder. I never said I didn't make it," he said, in a rather insulted manner. "I couldn't use pancetta though, because...well...I didn't want to add poison to the list of things that have happened to you."

"That bacon was completely fine!"

"The nose can be a very sensitive thing, Fabio," he began to explain, gently tapping my nose before doing the same to his own. "I pick up on things you wouldn't even notice until it was too late. And that pancetta was beginning to go off."

At that moment, his own nose gave a sniff, as if he'd locked on to a rather familiar smell.

"Are you alright?" I asked, sounding slightly worried at the fact Tino had shuddered in slight ecstasy.

"I...I can smell blood."

"It's just a papercut from this morning," I said, pointing out the scarlet slit inbetween my thumb and index finger; but a calm explanation soon turned to shocked exclamation when I noticed a deeper red running down the cannibal's hand.

"Tino, it's you! _You're_ bleeding."

"Nope, it's just ketchup," he said, quickly licking it off and giving a little shudder; thanks to his exclusive diet, it was just one of many tastes he was never going to get used to. Turning to face me, he couldn't help grinning at the fact I just seemed to be tucking right in.

Suddenly feeling a little curious, Tino reached up and grabbed the nearby framed picture from it's wall-hook; his attention so fixated on trying to figure out the people that he hadn't noticed my slightly blushing face. It was one from just before my ice age; all of the Montana were wanting to capture a group moment and Filomena had been quick to get me next to her instead of her brother Don, much to their father's disapproval.

"Hey, Fabio?"

"Hmm?"

"These guys from back in the day?"

I nodded inbetween mouthfuls, hoping that Tino would just leave it there and then; however, when I noticed him staring at one clan member in particular, I knew a little family history was going to be inevitable.

"Who's this guy? He kinda looks like Joe."

"I believe that was your grandfather, he was called Gino too."

"That's quite ironic. Gino does mean _ever-living_ and it's a name's that carried on through our family ever since anyone can remember."

"Too bad you couldn't live up to _your_ name..._little_."

At that point I couldn't help chuckling rather snidely at that point, causing my fellow Italian to stare me down in quite a dark fashion.

"Oh you can just shut the cazzo up for that, Fabio," he snarled, suddenly sounding quite menacing. "Don't think I wouldn't do it because I happen to like you. It's like Scott said that time in the hospital- I _would_ be willing to take a Chopstick Fag's greatest love from him."

"Besides," he continued, leaning in closer as I tried my best not to shake. "I haven't eaten yet."

In my bid to stare him down in what almost seemed like a power struggle between us, Tino was quickly the victor; but amongst realising there was no way I could shift his bulk, I suddenly couldn't help feeling that it seemed a little too heavy "downstairs".

One quick glance was all it took to send me flying into a memory-fuelled panic attack.

"TINO!"

"Cosa? Oh _cazzo_!"

"Aaaaah! Non acora! NON ACORA!"

"Oh dio, I'm so sorry!" He gasped, suddenly raising both hands off the bed cover when he realised just where he'd been putting his weight. It hadn't been as painful as last time when he'd actually grabbed my area down there, but it was enough to bring the memories flooding back. I didn't know what exactly had spurred on the feelings, but I suddenly felt brave enough to challenge him about it.

"Ho davvero pensato che avresti cambiato, ma è ovvio che voleva un altro colpo a me!"

"Fabio, non è così, ho solo ..."

"Vattene."

"Fabio …"

"Basta avere il culo della mia stanza, fottuto maiale grasso!"

At that moment, I realised I'd gone way too far. Swiftly removing myself from the bed, I was surprised that I hadn't been savagely attacked and eaten yet; instead, I was faced with a rather remorseful cannibal. Tino was the kind of guy who could put on an act to make himself look at least a little sane, especially when the right eyes were looking, and I actually couldn't help feeling sorry for him. Carefully getting myself back onto the bed without sending the tray flying in all directions, I noticed Tino glance at me for a split second; realising I may have caught his eye, he suddenly averted his glance to the floor, looking _very_ ashamed of himself.

"Sōrī, my little masterchef. Kissu!" I chirped, suddenly kissing him on the cheek and causing him to smile. I could tell he was peeved that I'd used the language of the "Chopstick Fag" but I think the fact I was showing a lot more affection (believe me, a kiss on the cheek counted as that) towards him than usual more than made up for it.

"That was actually really good, by the way. The food, of course, not...yeah," I complimented, sounding genuinely grateful as I pushed the tray towards him.

"Grazie," Tino simpered, shuffling slightly on the bed and unable to help looking pleased with himself.

"And the eggs were just divine."

"Now let me get my sausage down your throat!"

"_MI SCUSI_?"

When I heard those words, I realised how wrong I'd been to trust Tino to behave himself; as I felt the sweat drip down the back of my neck, I desperately tried to find an excuse to kick him out of the room. However, I suddenly found myself freezing in a manner of confusion when I noticed Tino push a sausage of the edible kind towards me with his fork.

"_This_ sausage, you idiota," Tino chuckled, obviously not insulted by any implications on my behalf. Digging into it with the fork and picking it up in one fell poke, he ushered it towards me. I felt a complete and utter fool for missing the three big sausages on my plate. Not wanting to let him down, I whipped the metal from his hand and began to chow down; however, after just a minute or so, I found it difficult swallowing down the meat.

"Oh dio, I don't think I can eat any more."

"There's only two sausages left, you could easily manage those..."

Noticing my sickly green tinge, Tino wasn't about to do anything to make himself blameable for any projectile vomiting. Grinning nervously, he quickly took a bite out of one of the remaining sausages before gently snatching his fork back.

"So little on you," he said, gently patting my back before he shifted himself off the bed; taking the tray with him, he was set to make his way out there and then when he suddenly stopped by the door, as if he'd just remembered something important.

"By the way, Don told me about a mission he had for us two," Tino explained, dropping the almost-empty tray onto my dresser drawer. Upon hearing those words, I felt my heart drop; trying my best to smile it off, Tino's next words were enough to calm my sudden nerves.

"But of course, I told him that wasn't possible. So he's set it as a solo. Huh, you always did work better with Chopstick Fag anyway."

"Too right, amico," I said, sounding rather cocky, but it was in all good humour. Realising that Tino still hadn't left I couldn't help stating the obvious, chuckling as I did so.

"Does this look like a _hotel_ room to you or something? Shouldn't you be getting back to Don?"

"Don can wait, I'd rather spend time with _you_!" he exclaimed, sprawling out on the bed; flashing me a rather sane grin, he soon patted the bed in a bid to get me by his side again. I wasn't willing to let the past go just because of a few civil acts, but it would have been harsh to not give Tino a chance. Just as amicos, nothing less and certainly nothing more.

Besides, what Aniki didn't know wouldn't hurt him...si?


End file.
